I've noticed a few users entries and pulses are linked to the Frontpage. They seem to be people that have changed their usernames lately. Rchick2006 and nomdeinternet come to mind. Wonder what's up. Haven't seen this happen before. Their posts also have their old usernames displayed.

This really moved me. I think I will do my part and get rid of my two carry guns!

Any takers?

But, why stop there?

I don't really need any of these, either.

Or the rifles and shotguns, passed down to me by my father, that I keep beside my bed.

And that Luftwaffe dagger in the cabinet should probably go, too.

That could hurt somebody!

Yeah, right.

When they pry 'em outa my cold dead hands!

Maybe then.

Maybe.

For the past two weeks, from sunup to sundown, this bird has been launching himself at our patio doors.

Every day. All day long. 

The county ext. agent says he sees his reflection in the glass and thinks it's another bird. Since it's spring and mating season, he's wanting to "hook up"!

But, for two weeks straight? Every 15 or 20 seconds? All day?

If I walk over by the door, or go out on the deck he flies away, but as soon as the coast is clear, he comes right back.

Some times he hits the glass so hard he stuns himself and winds up on the deck. But he shakes it off and starts all over again.

Does his little pea sized bird brain not remember the two weeks of constant failures? Or, is every launch a first attempt in his mind?

Or do the failures, and the pain, not matter?

Is he hoping that this time, this very next time, he is going to score?

This time, he's going to get him some of that itty, bitty, birdie booty?

I guess hope really does spring eternal.

Or, could he just be the dumbiest assed bird on the planet?

Happy Easter, everybody!

For far too many years than I care to count (29), looks like I will be solely responsible for mowing all three of my neighbors backyards again this year.

They never mention it. They don't offer to help. They buy no gas. They pick up no debris, toys, flotsam or jetsam washed up by the river.

One neighbor even has a newer, and larger, riding mower than mine?

But, I guess if it can't be avoided, Ya might as well try to enjoy it!

 Sometimes being a good neighbor isn't just quite enough of a reward on it's own, so I decided to pat myself on the back in my own way.

Beef! Porterhouse, to be exact. It's what's for dinner!

And, of course, we all know what time it is. Don't we, boys and girls?